The Hearts of Middlefield Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  She shook her head and smiled. “I’ve got it under control.”

  But just as Aaron turned away, he saw her expression change from confident to doubtful. Which surprised him, since Elisabeth always seemed to be sure of herself, except for the other day when she babysat Velda and Ester.

  Gabe had already left the room, and Aaron had intended to follow right behind him. Instead he paused. “Elisabeth?”

  She turned to him, her bright smile back in place. “Ya?”

  “If you need anything, let me know. Okay?”

  “That’s nice of you, Aaron, but I’ll be fine. I can do this.”

  As he left the office he thought he heard her whisper the same words again.

  Chapter 4

  There. Toilet’s fixed.” Lukas stood up in Esh’s Amish Goods’ small bathroom and put his wrench back in the tool belt on the floor. He turned to Anna, who was standing in the doorway. “You’re lucky; it was a slow leak. I thought you might have to replace the subfloor, but it’s fine. You’ll still need some new flooring in here, though.”

  Anna nodded, stifling a sigh. Another expense she hadn’t budgeted for. It was October, and Esh’s Amish Goods was open for business. Since she and her mother had bought the store, her bills had mounted and her savings had dwindled. Business hadn’t been as steady as she’d expected, or needed, it to be. She also hadn’t received a lot of help from her mother, who still had her hands full with Zeb. Just the other day he’d been caught up on the ladder again, trying to fix the broken latch on one of the windows, and this morning he had insisted on mucking out Marge’s stable. He refused to part with the old cow, even though she no longer gave milk and was too tough to eat. She was more like a pet than anything else, but a pet that required work, and she and her mother were both afraid he would overdo it and hurt himself again.

  So while her mother was busy keeping Zeb out of trouble, Anna had spent almost every waking moment at the store, save for Sundays. Hopefully someday she could hire someone to help her out, but right now she couldn’t afford it.

  She looked at Lukas, trying not to stare at the dimple that deepened on his right cheek when he smiled. She also tried not to notice his broad shoulders. Or the warmth in his eyes when their gazes met, which had been frequently, since he’d volunteered to help with more repairs in the shop. Over the past few months he had spent several evenings and every Saturday afternoon fixing and replacing almost everything in the store. She wondered where he got the energy to do the labor in addition to his carpentry job. More importantly, why he would even bother? But she was grateful he did. If he hadn’t, her business would have gone under before opening day.

  “Do you know what kind of floor you want?”

  She looked at Lukas. “Something inexpensive.” She eyed the old yellowed linoleum, which was stained and buckling in a couple of places.

  “I have a friend who puts in flooring.” Lukas stepped out of the bathroom and faced her. “I’ll talk to him and see if he can give you a discount.”

  “Lukas, I appreciate it but—”

  “Let me guess. You’d rather pay full price.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Nee, I’d rather not.” Her mirth faded. “You’ve done so much already.”

  Tipping back his hat, he said, “Glad to do it.”

  “And I’m grateful, I really am. But I’m afraid I’m taking advantage of you.”

  “I’m the one who should decide that, don’t you think? And I’ve decided you’re not taking advantage. So let me talk to Nathan and see what I can do about the flooring.”

  “But I haven’t paid you for replacing the door yet.”

  He gazed at her for a moment, as if he were deep in thought. “Tell you what, there’s a singing Sunday night at my house. Say you’ll attend and we’ll call it even.”

  His invitation caught her off guard. She hadn’t been to a singing in years, mostly because Daniel had never enjoyed them. She loved to sing, and for a brief moment she considered saying yes. But she couldn’t. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning away from him and facing her desk. “I can’t come.”

  “Why not?”

  Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? She turned around and saw that his grin had faded, his hazel eyes peering at her intensely. She looked away. “I’ll be busy with the store.”

  “On a Sunday?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll have to come up with a better excuse.”

  “Then how about this. I’m too old to go to singings.”

  His brow lifted. “Too old? You’re kidding, right?”

  She tilted up her chin. “Nee, I’m not. I haven’t been to a singing in a long time.”

  “All the more reason to come. You’ll have a great time. My sister Elisabeth will be there. I know you two will get along great. She’ll probably talk your ear off, though, so consider yourself warned. My mudder is also making her famous Ho Ho cake. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted it.”

  “Lukas, I’m not going.” Why couldn’t he just take no for an answer? She went to her desk and pulled out her checkbook. “How much do I owe you for fixing the door and the bathroom?”

  He came up behind her. “Anna.”

  Unable to resist his gentle tone, she faced him.

  “How about you tell me the real reason you don’t want to geh.”

  “I already did.”

  “You gave me an excuse, not the truth.”

  She placed her hands behind her on the desk and leaned back. “Why is it so important that I go? ”

  “I’ve never been one to tiptoe around things, Anna. I’m straightforward, and what you see is what you get. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”

  She nodded, transfixed by the way his intense expression pinned her in place.

  “While I haven’t minded at all helping you out, I’ll admit I had other reasons.” He stepped toward her. “I wanted to get to know you better. And now that I’ve started doing that, I don’t want to stop.”

  She felt her pulse quicken. Even when she and Daniel had decided to get married, he had never been so open with his thoughts or feelings. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and try to calm down her heart rate. Finally, she spoke. “I appreciate that, Lukas. It’s, um, nice of you to say.”

  He frowned. “That wasn’t the reaction I was looking for.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “There are things you don’t know about me that might change your mind. Like my age, for one thing.”

  His brows knitted together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re young—eighteen or nineteen, right?”

  “Wrong. Almost twenty.”

  “Still young. How old do you think I am?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do. I’m nearly twenty-five.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Wow. Practically a senior citizen.”

  “I’m serious, Lukas.”

  “I am too. If you think it matters to me that you’re five years older, you’re wrong.”

  “Then here’s something that will matter to you. I used to be engaged.”

  Surprise registered on his face, but he barely paused. “Tell me about him.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me about the dummkopf that was foolish enough to let you get away. Although I might have to find him and thank him.”

  “Lukas, this isn’t a joke.”

  “I’m not laughing.” His expression remained somber. “Tell me what happened.”

  The compassion in his voice and expression nearly brought her to tears. She was surprised she had any left; she’d shed so many after Daniel broke up with her. She looked away. “I don’t know.” How it pained her to say the words out loud, to admit that she had no idea why her fiancé had ended their engagement less than a week before the wedding.

  “He broke his vow to you?”

  She hesitated, then nodded be
fore standing up. “He came to see me a few days before the wedding. I thought everything was all right between us. We’d been together for a long time, almost four years. I was happy, and I thought he was too. But he said he couldn’t marry me.” Her throat caught. The pain of his last words still lingered.

  “He said it was him, not me. That he wasn’t ready for marriage. Then he wished me the best and left.” She looked at Lukas. “He moved to another district shortly after. A few months later I heard he married someone from that church.”

  “Anna, I’m sorry.”

  Lifting her chin, she said, “So now you understand why I can’t geh to the singing.”

  Lukas shook his head. “Nee. What I understand is that you’re scared of getting hurt again. And after what that jerk did, I don’t blame you.”

  “He’s not a jerk.”

  “Sounds like one to me. I’m surprised you’re defending him.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re supposed to forgive, aren’t we?”

  “Ya.” His tone softened. “We are. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but the thought of someone hurting you . . . you don’t deserve that, Anna.”

  She didn’t like the way her emotions were responding to him. She stepped to the side. “It’s late. We should both be getting home. Just let me know how much I owe you so I can write you a check.”

  Lukas didn’t say anything. Instead he turned and retrieved his tool belt from the bathroom. He gave her a long look, then walked out of the office.

  Surprised, she followed him. “Lukas, wait.”

  He turned around, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I won’t take your money, Anna.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t know how it is in Maryland, but here we help each other.”

  “We did the same.”

  “Then there’s nothing more to discuss. Unless you’ve changed your mind about Sunday.”

  She hesitated for a moment. A part of her wanted to say yes, to go to the singing with Lukas and not worry about her growing feelings for him. But Daniel’s betrayal kept popping into her thoughts, a stark reminder of what could happen if she acknowledged her feelings. “Nee. I haven’t.”

  Disappointment colored his features. “Then there’s nothing more to say.”

  She threaded her fingers together behind her back. “I guess not.”

  Without another word he left.

  Anna went to the door and watched him get in the buggy. Dusk had already descended, cloaking the sky in gray and purple light. As his buggy pulled away, she put her hand on the door, feeling the coolness of the glass against her palm. Several dead leaves skittered across the parking lot, pushed along by the fall breeze. She leaned her forehead on the door, unable to shake the feeling she’d just made a huge mistake.

  As she turned to go inside, a dull ache suddenly spread across her lower abdomen. She winced. Since the age of sixteen she’d experienced similar pain, but it had gotten worse over the past few months during her monthly cycle. Most times she could ignore it, but lately that had become more difficult. She’d always hoped it would go away as she grew older, but instead the pain had steadily increased.

  Anna went to her office and sat down at her desk. She opened the side drawer, pulled out her purse, and searched for a bottle of pain reliever. She shook out two pills in her palm, then took them with a sip of water she always had nearby. Usually after thirty minutes the pain would subside. It was something she had come to expect a few days every month.

  Ignoring the ache, she began to straighten up her desk before she went home. She picked up the checkbook, thinking of Lukas again. Even though she had turned him down, he still hadn’t wanted her money. Mentally she calculated how much he’d saved her business over the course of two months. Just the labor alone was enough for her to say a prayer of thanks for his generosity.

  And to make her feel guilty.

  She exhaled. For everything he’d done for her and Esh’s Amish Goods, he’d asked so little in return. The least she could do was show up at the singing. Besides, it might be fun. She’d been so focused on her work and family since moving to Middlefield, she really hadn’t had a chance to get to know people in the community, especially those close to her age. And if she went to the singing, she wouldn’t be obligated to Lukas anymore. Well, not completely. She still planned to pay him for his work. She’d force him to take a check if she had to.

  Twenty minutes and a tidy office later, she felt much better. The pain reliever had kicked in, and she felt good about her decision to go to the Bylers’ Sunday evening, even though the thought of seeing Lukas there made her palms grow damp. If only she’d met him before Daniel. Everything would be different. But she hadn’t, and she believed that God had a plan for her life, and her experience with Daniel happened for a reason. She had to protect her heart. Somehow she’d have to make him understand.

  “Who tied your tail into a knot?”

  Lukas looked at his sister Elisabeth with a puzzled expression then turned over one of the chairs in the kitchen. It was wobbly, and he needed to fix it before people started showing up for the singing. The table, handcrafted by their father years ago, took up a large part of the room but had comfortably seated their family of eight for years. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re so crabby today.” She scraped a large dollop of mayonnaise from the jar and plopped it on top of a huge bowl of chicken salad.

  “Elisabeth, I’ve barely been around you today.” They had both been busy getting ready for company. Since it was Sunday they weren’t doing actual work but finishing up minor details. Elisabeth had decided at the last minute the chicken salad needed “a little something extra,” but other than that they were prepared for their guests, who would start arriving any minute.

  “I know I haven’t seen you much, but when I have you’ve been scowling. You’re face will freeze like that if you’re not careful.”

  “You don’t still believe that old wives’ tale, do you?”

  “Nee. But you never know, you could be the first.” She looked at him and grinned. “Then you’ll only be half as gutguckich as all the maed think you are.”

  Lukas didn’t answer her. He didn’t care what other girls thought of him. He only cared about one. And that one didn’t want to have anything to do with him, only his repair skills.

  He frowned. That wasn’t entirely true. But that didn’t help stem the bitter disappointment he still felt from her rejection the other day.

  “See, there you go again.” Elisabeth started stirring the salad, cradling the bowl against her chest as she faced him. “You haven’t been sucking on lemons, have you?”

  “Drop it, Elisabeth.” He checked the bottom of each chair leg then discovered the problem. He pulled out his pocket knife and started scraping the wood.

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Anna Esh, would it?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Elisabeth said in a sing-song voice. “Maybe because you’re with her almost as much as you’re here at home?”

  “I’m not with her; I’m doing work at the store.”

  “And at her house.”

  “So?” He set the chair down and pushed it back and forth, checking the stability. It still wasn’t even, so he flipped it back over and tried again.

  “A mann wouldn’t work so hard for a maedel unless he was sweet on her.”

  “Or unless he knew she didn’t have any help.” His frown deepened. His sister could be like a dog with a bone sometimes. She didn’t know when to let something go. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

  “You’re my bruder and I care about you.”

  “I’d believe you, except I know the truth.” He checked the chair again, glad to see he’d fixed it this time. He stood up and looked at Elisabeth. “You’re being nosy.”

  She continued stirring the chicken salad with a long-handled wooden spoon. “I’m hurt you would acc
use me of such a thing.”

  “Even if it’s the truth?”

  She gave him a look then glanced at the bowl. “Oh, nee! I put too much mayo in this!”

  “You should have left it alone.”

  “It’s all soupy.” She set the bowl on the counter then went to the pantry and threw open the door.

  “Put some more chicken in it.”

  “I don’t have any more chicken. I used it all up yesterday.” She put her finger to her lips as she scanned the ingredients in front of her, her brows knitting into a line. “You think potato flakes would work?”

  “Potatoes in chicken salad?” His stomach lurched at the thought.

  “I’m trying to improvise!” Her hand went to her forehead. “Why did I think I could improve on Mami’s cooking?”

  Lukas walked over and peered inside the bowl. Chunks of chicken and sliced celery seemed to float in a sea of mayonnaise. While he had no problem fixing a toilet or building cabinets, he didn’t cook, and he had no idea how to salvage the salad.

  Elisabeth shut the door. “I’ll have to ask her what to do. I should have just left it alone.”

  “Elisabeth, it’s not that bad. It’s just chicken salad.”

  “That’s the point. I screwed up something so simple. Again.”

  Lukas didn’t know what she was talking about, but before he could ask her, she flew out of the room in search of their mother. He looked around the kitchen at several dishes and desserts his mother and sisters had made yesterday. Their guests would also bring food, so there would be a lot to go around and probably plenty to spare. He didn’t know what she was getting so upset about, but at least she’d stopped talking about Anna. Now if only he could stop thinking about her.

  He spied his mother’s Ho Ho cake on the counter, pushed far in the corner. He’d recognize that familiar foil-covered pan anywhere. After taking a quick glance around the room, he snuck over to the pan and lifted the corner. Just one little taste; no one would know. Grabbing a fork out of a nearby drawer, he moved in for a bite when he heard the back door slam. Quickly he ditched the fork and covered the cake before turning around.